


Maybe

by melchimaus



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6786928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchimaus/pseuds/melchimaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel contemplates her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after "Canary Cry"

Laurel stared out at the city below her. Star City wasn’t particularly large, but even so, it was unnervingly quiet. Lights shone from windows and neon signs, and sometimes she thought she saw a car’s headlights travel down a lonely street. She wondered if Oliver, John, and Thea were out tonight, or if they were staying in with Felicity to regroup after the funeral. Her funeral.

She had been there, unbeknownst to them, and she had seen and heard everything. The anguish on her parents’ faces. Nyssa, stoic, yet still exuding grief. The girl who had stolen her sonic device. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She couldn’t fault her for wanting to be a vigilante, not when the city had become what it was. But to take her identity, her voice… Oliver probably thought that announcing her alter ego was meant to bring closure. It did, in a sense, but not in the way Laurel wanted. She could die; the Black Canary couldn’t – shouldn’t.

“Someone could see you, you know.”

Sara appeared beside her, draped in a large blanket, and carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. She gave her a small smile. Laurel accepted one of the cups, and tugged one side of the blanket around her, creating a warm cocoon. 

“They’d probably think I was just some druggie,” she replied, resting her head against her sister’s. She had been wearing a large, shapeless sweatshirt, her bright hair hidden beneath its hood. 

Sara snuggled back against her. “They’d ask you for a hit,” she teased. “And you’d kick their ass.”

Laurel huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate.

Was that a gunshot, or just a car backfiring?

“I can’t stay here,” said Laurel softly.

Sara hummed. “I know.”

They fell silent. A streetlight flickered, but refused to go out. A window darkened as someone went to bed. Laurel mouthed at a bit of whipped cream, while the rest of the white mound slowly melted into a swirling froth. 

“I’m not running away,” she said suddenly. She didn’t know if it was a statement, or If she was trying to convince herself.

“No, you’re not.” Sara seemed sure at least. She nudged Laurel’s side. “I wouldn’t let you.” She touched her wrist. Laurel shifted the cup into one hand, and held Sara’s hand with the other.

“Would you let me start over?” she asked.

Sara shifted, bringing their clasped hands inside their little nest. She didn’t answer right away, and Laurel knew she was chewing on her lip.

“If it made you happy,” she said at last. She lifted her head and Laurel turned to look at her. Her eyes looked sad. “But I don’t think it would.”  
“I could move to London.” Laurel knocked her forehead against Sara’s. “Work for the queen.” She smiled. “You know I could do it.”

Sara snorted and turned to rest her cheek on Laurel’s shoulder. “You could,” she agreed. She squeezed her hand. “But you’re not Oliver. You’d be lonely.”

“I can make friends just fine, Sara,” Laurel joked. 

Sara hummed. “Maybe. But it wouldn’t be the same.”

Laurel looked into her mug. The cream had completely melted. She took a larger sip, enjoying the rich texture as it passed over her tongue. 

“It’s my life, Sara,” she said, still staring into her cup.

She could feel the push of Sara’s cheek on her shoulder as she smiled. “It’s your death,” she corrected. She turned her head to look up at her sister through her eyelashes. Laurel rolled her eyes, but kept her gaze lowered.

Sara went back to her original position. “I missed you,” she said quietly.

At that, Laurel turned to kiss the top of her head. “I missed you, too,” she replied, but sighed. “Just… give me some time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

A light breeze blew some loose tendrils of hair against Laurel’s cheek. She wasn’t scared. There was a lot of herself in Star City, but it didn’t have all of her. She didn’t really want to go to London, but it was a possibility. She could go anywhere, do anything. 

But maybe Laurel Lance wasn’t as dead as she had thought.


End file.
